


Bye, Bruce, Love You

by AKnightOfAGoodKing



Series: She Is the Batman [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Childhood Friends, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Sweet, Yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 10:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20526614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKnightOfAGoodKing/pseuds/AKnightOfAGoodKing
Summary: He waits. She returns.[DO NOT REPOST/REUSE MY WORK(S) WITHOUT MY ACKNOWLEDGEMENT AND PERMISSION]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to finish this so I cut it. It's been a while since I've done a Super at fic, but this can be read as either shippy or not.

I was angry with my friend;   
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.  
—_A Poison Tree_, William Blake

Clark was eleven years old when he saw her for the first time. A tall, older man was working on the engine, trying to figure out what was wrong, and off to the side, underneath an oak tree, was a young girl, probably one or two years older than Clark he thought because she seemed a lot more mature than him and all his friends. Clark didn't think that way because she was the prettiest girl he'd ever seen in his young life, dressed on a black dress more elegant than simple farmers would wear. 

It was the way her face was blank, like unfinished homework or an uncarved tree, and Clark could only describe it as sad. She looked like she had finished crying, though her blue eyes were not red but downcast and flitting. 

"Think we should ask that kid if she wants to ball?" Clark asked his friend, Peter, who lived down the street. 

Peter scoffed, leaning over the wooden fence. "Clark," he said, "look at her. That kid has never played anything. And she's a girl. We don't play with girls."

That, Clark never understood, and it seemed like a norm that both boys and girls abide by, boys don't play with girls and girls don't play with boys. It wasn't like they were much different just because they dress or act a certain way, it just made them people. Clark had a hard time keeping up with these rules and such sometimes, he wasn't human he knew. He was different than all the boys and girls in Smallville, maybe even in the entire universe. He was alone, and so was that girl standing under that oak tree. 

So Clark, with all his baseball things, ran all the way back to the farm to go call his Pa and tell him about the man and the girl stuck on the side of the road. Jonathan Kent, always concerned about people, immediately grabbed his toolbox and started their pick-up truck. Clark was quietly excited as they drove down to that road.

"You look like you can use some help," Pa said, sticking his head out of the driver side window before stepping out of the truck. He took the toolbox with him, coming up to the other man. Clark got out right after him, bringing down his mitt, ball, and bat.

"Ah, thank you," the man said, revealing his English accent. He extended a hand. "My name is Alfred Pennyworth, and you are?"

"Jonathan Kent," Pa replied, shaking hands with Alfred. Then he gestured to Clark. "And this is my son, Clark. He's the one who told me about your troubles."

Alfred smiled kindly at Clark. "You've saved us, Mister Clark," he said with a nod. "I was worried we'd have to walk to a motel tonight, Master Bruce's shoes aren't meant for walking too long."

"Hopefully, we can get your car up and running soon enough."

"Her name is Bruce?" Clark picked up a second later, glancing over at the girl who was openly looking at him. Bruce was a boy's name, wasn't it? It was nothing like Alex or Kelly or Holland.

"Yes, her name is Bruce," Alfred replied, raising a testy brow at the boy as if he was weary of people disliking that name. 

Clark shook his head. "I've never met a Bruce before," he confessed, and he gripped his baseball tightly. "I'm going to ask her if she wants to play."

"Not a bad idea, Mister Clark."

"Stay where we can see you!" Pa called after Clark as the boy started running to the tree. 

The farm boy wasn't sure what exactly he'd say, but he was glad he'd done it, or at least try to. 

"Hi, I'm Clark. Wanna play?" Clark ended up saying, holding up his ball. 

The girl—Bruce, Clark said to himself—nodded, her hair bouncing on her shoulders. She didn't say anything, just looked at Clark carefully, like she knew he wasn't normal. 

Clark led her out into the field across the road. "You wanna pitch or hit?" he asked.

"Hit." It was the first word Bruce had ever said to Clark, and it said a lot. 

"Okay."

The first pitch, Bruce swung to early. The second pitch, she swung too late. The third, she didn't even try. It was obvious she didn't know how to hit, or that she cared about her dress getting dirty or that she was already getting sweaty. She just keep that look in her eyes that made Clark sad. He didn't know why, but he hoped that one day, he will. 

"You ever even play baseball?" Clark asked instead, scratching the back of his head. 

"No," Bruce stated, lowering the bat. 

"So, what do you do?" 

Instead of answering, Bruce threw down the bat and got into a defensive stance, her fists held up in front of her. Clark smiled. 

"Let's go, farm boy," she dared, her face serious. 

Clark laughed. Then he charged at her, forgetting for a moment about the secrets he had to keep, and he lost the world underneath his feet, almost like he was flying, when he was flipped onto his back. Fallen to the ground, he was shocked, looking at Bruce with wide eyes. 

"Show me how you did that," Clark said, getting up, and for the first time, he saw Bruce smile. 

She taught him how to do that throw, and she even let him try the move on her. Clark couldn't remember if he'd ever laughed so carelessly before, Bruce encouraging him. 

Clark was so happy when Pa invited Alfred and Bruce to stay over at the farm that night, seeing that the car couldn't be fixed without professional help and that it was getting late, and they accepted, the Englishman glad to have a ride and a place to stay. 

"Who knows, maybe it'll take more than one night to get the car fixed," Alfred commented as Pa drove. 

Ma was more than happy to let them stay, and dinner was lively, Clark bugging Bruce to talk to him. She did, laughing at him when he accidentally dropped his face into Ma's apple pie because he was clumsy. 

After dinner, after the dishes and table were cleaned up, Ma, Pa and Alfred left to talk on the front porch and Clark and Bruce went out to the back, carrying a flashlight and a towel each. The children set their towels down beside each other, and they stand in the night quietly as they looked up to the stars. There weren't many lights in Smallville, so the night sky was one of the best things to see in the eyes of a ten year old. It'd never get old.

"Gosh. Beautiful night, huh?" Clark asked, mostly to himself. 

Then out of nowhere, Bruce hit Clark on the head with a stick. It snapped against his skull. 

"Hey!" Clark shouted, pressing his hand against the place of impact even though it didn't hurt. "What's the big idea?" 

Bruce smiled almost smugly. "You're stronger than you let on," she accused with only a little bite, "stronger than anybody. Why do you hide it?" 

She knew, no doubt from all the horsing around they did earlier. Clark nearly forgot himself while playing with her. 

"You know," he replied, hesitant, "sometimes I feel like I don't really belong here. That if people really knew me, they'd be scared of me."

Bruce looked at him. "That," she said with a pause, and then she gave him a smile, "sounds pretty awesome."

Clark laughed. 

One night at the farm turned into a whole week, and since then, Bruce had been Clark's best friend because she was the first person to actually _ see _ him. She told him he was her best friend too, because it was the first time someone asked her to play since her parents' death, and the only one to burst out crying once learning that fact. 

Alfred brought Bruce back to Smallville for a week every summer, winter, and spring break, and the farm was a family of five in those times. Along with his parents, Bruce helped him control his powers, finding everything new to be the most fascinating thing, and Clark made sure she was having fun. He offered to introduce her to some of his friends sometimes, but she refused so he had to do his best to make sure Bruce was entertained or else she'd do something Alfred would disapprove of. 

Several years passed, and Clark was in high school. Ever since he met her, Clark always considered Bruce to be the best girl—elegant, smart, outspoken, kind, pretty—but then he met Lana Lang and learned there was more than one. He had the biggest crush on Lana.

He could barely get the courage to talk to her, much less be allowed to socially since he was just a writer for the school newspaper and she was one of the cheerleaders. Clark was glum about that, mindlessly complaining to his best friend over the phone. 

"She'd never talk to me!" he said, moping on his bed. "Her ex-boyfriend is the baseball captain. I'm just a nerd."

_ "Just talk to her, Clark," _ Bruce growled out, probably rolling her eyes because Clark wouldn't shut up about his problem. _ "If the only reason she doesn't want to talk to you is because she doesn't think you share the same status, then why would you even like her? If she would fall for something as shallow as a 'high' position on the social ladder, then maybe you're setting yourself up for heartbreak." _

Clark sighed, knowing Bruce was right. He liked Lana because she was sweet and treated everyone with nothing but friendliness. It sounded very stereotypical, but some were based on truth. Clark just so happened to live this particular one. 

"You're right," he conceded because he was being given the voice of reason and logic, and that was Bruce. "I'll try. I'll talk to you later. It's getting late, and Alfred won't be happy if I'm enabling your lack of sleep. Night, Bruce, love you."

Bruce hummed in acknowledgement as always. _ "Good night, Clark." _

They hung up, and Clark was asleep within the hour, telling himself he'd try to talk to Lana at least once by the end of this week. 

The next day started and ended normally, Clark glad he managed to smile at Lana when they passed each other in the hallway. He was packing up his things when he overheard his classmates talking beside him. 

"You hear, there's a girl dressed in a uniform outside the school."

"Yeah, Lisa just texted me. You won't believe it, but it's Bruce Wayne, you know that rich heiress from Gotham whose parents were shot in an alleyway. What is _ she _ doing here?"

"Bruce Wayne? She's _ gorgeous _! She was wearing that Gotham Academy uniform, it's super cute. You think she knows someone from this school?" 

Clark sucked in a breath, doing his best not to answer as he finished packing and picked up his backpack. He tried not to seem like he was in a rush as he hurriedly walked out the door. 

He spotted her immediately, wearing Gotham Academy's green plaid skirt. Students, and even a few teachers, were openly staring as her, not used to a celebrity coming to town. She didn't seem a bit bothered, bored if anything. The most striking thing about her was that she was not wearing a sweater, or even her uniform jacket, on a breezy autumn afternoon.

"You're going to get sick!" Clark ended up scolding, dumping his backpack on the ground to take off his jacket and putting it over his best friend's shoulders. He didn't even give her a chance to say no. "It's barely sixty degrees and you didn't even put on leggings!"

"I left my jacket in the private jet," Bruce supplied, putting her arms through. The sleeves of his jacket covered just past her fingertips and the hem just below her hips. "I'm fine."

"You know you can't lie to me, Bruce. Where's Alfred?" Clark unconsciously zipped up the jacket, knowing Bruce wouldn't, and grabbed his red scarf to wrap around her neck for extra warmth. He still wished she'd worn pants or something as he picked up his backpack. 

"Gotham."

"He's going to kill you."

"I know."

That made Clark laugh. "We should get you out of the cold," he said. He paused. "Why are you here? Not that I don't want you to be."

Bruce looked at him as if he was an idiot. "Because you think you're not good enough to talk to her," she stated with a huff, "because you're not 'popular'. You're as dumb as a brick, Clark, so as your best friend, I decided to help you out. Everyone in school certainly knows you now. You're welcome, by the way."

Clark just remembered that he was currently standing in front of the school, and he groaned, regretting that he'd been worried about the wrong things because he'd made Bruce worry about it too. Especially since it made her decide that it was a good idea to come see him out of the blue with no warm layers.

This was her way of telling him off, being as dramatic as always. 

"Okay, I'm sorry," Clark said, letting out a sigh. "I'm an idiot." 

Bruce smiled because she knew that already. "Buy me coffee," she then said, turning away and heading down the street. "I'm getting cold."

Clark followed her. "We'll just head home. There's coffee."

"No. When Ma finds out I ditched class to travel halfway across the country, she's going to tear me a new one. We're staying out as long as possible."

"You ditched class to travel halfway across the country for me? Aw, I knew you love me."

"Shut up, Clark."

That night, they stayed out for as long as they could, mostly just drinking coffee and milkshakes while they talked about everything and in between. Sometimes, they fell into their usual silence, just walking around town. Bruce tried to give him the slip three times, but he was always locked onto her heart beat.

They only headed back when Clark's ears picked up Ma's threat to ground him if he didn't come home this instant. Bruce resisted going home, but Clark simply picked up her where no one was there to see them and flew them all the way back to the farm. 

Man was waiting for the both of them with a disapproving look on her face. Alfred must have called and told her everything. 

"Young lady, do you know how close you put Alfred into a heart attack?" she scolded, pointing a finger at the heiress. "Missing classes to fly all the way here to Smallville without telling soul? Are you trying to kill me too?"

"No, ma'am," Bruce said, putting her hands behind her back like she was still a kid. "I just wanted to visit, I swear. Clark's been mopey over the phone, and I thought to check up on him."

"On a _ school _ night?" 

"It's not like I need to go, I'm already ahead by two months."

"That's no excuse. You'll be cleaning out the barn for this, young lady."

Bruce perked up. "Alfred didn't say send me back?"

Ma huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Be thankful that man is so understanding," she said sternly. "It's not only Clark who's having a rough time at school, is it? Now go take a hot shower, you're going to get sick."

"Yes, Ma." 

"You're staying in Smallville?" Clark asked, smiling. He put an arm around his best friend's shoulders. "Yes!" 

"Don't think you two will be having all the fun, young man,” Ma called out, looking at her son as an accomplice. "You miss a day of school and you'll be cleaning the house every day for a month, you hear me?" 

Clark smiled sheepishly, forcing a laugh. "Of course, Ma, why would I ever . . ."

His mother gave him one warning look, and he quickly shut up. 

That night, like every night Bruce stayed over, Clark gave her his bed because the floor was less uncomfortable for him than it would be for her. He slept on a sleeping bag and took one blanket, making sure Bruce was bundled up because she was only human, and they talked most of the night like they always do.

They talk about things they talked about over the phone and things they didn't talk about over the phone. Conversation was never boring with Bruce, and it was easy to talk about the same things over and over again. One of them would have something new to say or move on smoothly to something else. There were moments of silence sometimes, but they were always comfortable silences, giving each a moment to think to themselves. Clark loved these nights.

Bruce ended up stay the rest of the week, cleaning out the barn and other chores while Clark was at school. She'd come pick him up even though she didn't need to, still wearing a skirt in the cold weather, but at least she wore a jacket? 

Oddly, she made Clark do everything teenagers could possibly do in a small farm town like Smallville so it was going to see a movie almost every night, eating a lot of junk food, doing some maybe not legal teenager things, and drinking a lot of milkshakes. A few of Clark's friends managed to introduce themselves.

“Hey, Bruce,” Clark asked one of the nights, “what's wrong?” He can't see her, but he knew she was looking up at the ceiling. He was too. 

She was quiet for a second. “Why do you ask?” she replied. 

“You were pretending when my friends came along. I know you don't smile like that. Is everything okay? You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“I know, Clark. I don't want to talk about it yet.”

“Okay. Love you, Bruce.”

“I know, Clark.” He could hear her smiling. 

On Sunday, Alfred showed up to pick Bruce up, and everyone said their_ bye, see you later! _ Clark already missed her, and he went back to school the next day. Lana spoke to him that morning, and it was the happiest day of his life. By spring, they were dating and becoming the school's most popular couple. People apparently liked the popular/nerdy pairing because it was cute and they were cute together. 

They broke it off the summer before college started. Clark decided he wanted to be a journalist, and he asked her to move to Metropolis with her. He got a full ride to the university there. 

“No, I'm sorry, Clark, I'm the only one who can take care of the farm now. I want to stay with my dad, the cancer is biding its time and I can't go. I'm sorry, Clark. I love you.”

And Clark loved her too, he really did. He wanted to marry her, this sweet cheerleader who strove to perform well in all fields and didn't blame him for hiding his powers when she eventually found out. She broke his heart, and in a way, Clark thought he broke hers too just the same. 

Then he learned that a heart can be broken twice, driving a nail deeper into his chest like a constricting force that threatened to suffocate him. That same summer, Bruce left, disappeared from Gotham without saying where she was going and why. Alfred was left as the sole proprietor of the Wayne fortune, not bound by anything or anyone save for his love for that little girl who survived the death of her parents. What was cruel was that Bruce didn't leave without a word entirely. No, she said goodbye to Clark after telling him not to look for her. She told him to stop listening for her heart, she made him _ promise_. Clark, though resistant for as long as he could, stopped listening, and he was left to grieve. 

She promised she'd be back. 

Five years passed, and Clark graduated top of his classes, being guaranteed a job as a newbie journalist at the _ Daily Planet_. He went back and forth from Metropolis and Smallville often, reconnecting with Lana as friends. Working two part-time jobs and saving up, he managed to find a small apartment in the okay part of the city, having his own place for the first time in his life. His parents came and christened his new place on his twenty-second birthday. 

Somewhere, between working, classes, and making friends, Clark started to use his powers to help people on a much larger scale. It started with a giant robot trying to rob a bank, and unable to stayby, Clark took it out. He did it so fast that people started calling him a blur with distinct features of a man. He was hailed a hero, and somewhere, deep inside him, Clark knew it was one of the greatest callings in his life. He began to wear proudly on his chest the symbol of the House of El on poorly painted black shirts that Ma helped make. That was when people started calling him _ Superman_. 

At some point, the amount of black shirts he went through was becoming a bit of a hassle, so Ma, with great skill and attention, took fabric from the spaceship and crafted a suit, a large “S” on the front and Clark's red baby blanket made into a cape. It withstood damage much better. He started wearing glasses to hide his identity, and surprisingly, _ it worked_. Clark didn't understand it, but he counted himself lucky.

At the _ Planet_, he met another love of his life, having eyes for star reporter Lois Lane. It took awhile for her to give him any attention, but once Clark got the chance to be her friend, he liked her even more. He admired her stubborn drive to find the truth (which got her into a lot of trouble sometimes) and passion to help others with her writing. Actually, _ everyone _ admired her, always open to hearing people's ideas for their next piece and giving them advice. It didn't help that she was such a beautiful woman, smiling knowingly and always teasing others. Clark was pretty sure three-quarters of the office had a crush on her, and he was her friend. 

He got really close to her photographer, Jimmy Olsen, too, thinking the younger man like a little brother of sorts, clumsy but always excited to do his job and followed Lois to make sure she didn't get into too much trouble. If you weren't crushing of Lois, you were worried about her, at least that was what Cat Grant said. 

But along with new friends, Clark kept close with old ones too, especially Alfred. At least once a month, Clark came over to Gotham, and he and the older man would have a meal together, sometimes in the Manor and sometimes not. Alfred made all the meals, of course, but once in a while, Clark took the butler back home to Smallville for dinner. The reporter was sure that Ma and Pa worried about their friend the most. His parents got angry and scared when they found out, Ma crying her heart out when she saw his expression. 

Alfred was doing well those passing five years, growing older but not looking like he'd aged a bit, and he kept the Manor and all Wayne property up to date. WE was being taken care of by CEO Lucius Fox, whom Clark had the pleasure of befriending. 

Still, Clark wished the Manor wasn't as empty. When it had two people living in it, it just felt big. With only one, it felt . . . pointless. Like it didn't need to be there? Clark never had the chance to get too comfortable in the Manor, it wasn't the farm. Now, without Bruce, he felt like he'd overstayed his welcome.

Sometimes, when he wasn't having the best of days, Clark was tempted to find her, his best friend, but he didn't. Not even when Alfred hinted at the possibility, the butler missing his ward even if he never said it out loud. If Clark knew heartbreak when she left, he could only imagine how the older felt, having been told nothing. Abandonment was perhaps the closest thing Clark could come up with. 

So when he heard the news, a month after he turned twenty-three, he nearly cried on the spot. 

“Bruce Wayne is alive!” 

That was the headline that ran throughout the East Coast, most by word of mouth, but by the next morning, it'll be all over the front pages. The Princess of Gotham was back in the public scene. 

“I have to go,” Clark said that afternoon, cutting into a conversation with Lois and Jimmy. His breathing became shallow, his blood pumping loudly in his ears. 

“Go where?” Lois said, confused. 

“Gotham, I have to go to Gotham.”

“You wanna catch a glimpse of Bruce Wayne?” Jimmy asked, nodding in understanding. “That's a gold mine right there.”

Clark shook his head. “No. I'm not feeling well, I have to go. Bye.”

Without waiting for a response, Clark ran into the elevator, pressing to go up to the rooftop, and he didn't even make a step there before he was flying, rushing over to the dark city by the sea. In his head all he could think of was her. He landed in the garden of the Manor, white roses and pink hydrangeas all over, and Clark knocked on the back door, which led to the kitchen. 

“Mister Clark,” Alfred greeted, politely and proper as always, and there was finally a peaceful smile on his lips. He opened the door wider, stepping off to the side. “She's in her father's office.”

Clark could only nod, coming and heading straight to the office, _ second floor, third door to the right_. He opened the door without a second thought, and he saw one of the most beautiful sights in the last five years. There she was, his best friend. 

She was dressed down, sweats and a jogging sweater, and she looks older, everything Clark remembered her. Bruce had a small smile on her lips, her voice deep and quiet as she spoke. “Hello, Clark,” she said, confident but her words too distant. It was as if she wasn't sure where she was in his life, having left it without saying where or why. 

Clark stepped into Thomas’ office, not believing his eyes, and he placed his hands on her arms. “Is that really you?” he whispered, searching her face for the truth. “Can I . . .”

Even without finishing, Bruce nodded her head, and once again, the world was filled with the sound of her heartbeat, a sound so resounding that it shook Clark off his feet, pulling him down to the floor and crumbling him from the inside out. He placed his hands on his head in disbelief as the man began to sob against his knees, relief barreling down on him like a hail storm. 

“Is it me, Clark?” he heard her ask, hearing the shifting of her body to sit next to him. She was shaky, but she pressed closely, their arms touching like they never parted. 

“Yes,” Clark replied, “it's you. I missed you so much.”

“I know, Clark..”

The reporter couldn't help but laugh. “I know.”

When Batman began to make claim over the Gotham, it wasn't much of a surprise to Clark because for the first time in five years, he finally understood.

The two of them returned to being best friends again, as if Bruce never left, even though she did. The catch was that the world only knew them as Batman and Superman, dubbed the World's Finest Duo in almost no time, but quiet, farm boy reporter Clark Kent and extravagant, city heiress Bruce Wayne were from two different worlds and would've never met before. Living in two different cities and having to keep up her image of a ditzy woman, it was mostly Clark heading over to Gotham ever so often because between the two of them, it took him less time to travel, and for the most part, he just stayed at the Manor or joined in patrol as Superman. Clark and Bruce was a private relationship, and it was nobody's business besides theirs and Alfred. 

Oh, and Ma and Pa too after Clark brought her back to Smallville. Pa broke into tears, having missed her as a daughter, and Ma had to step out of the room to keep herself from yelling. Bruce apologize profoundly, and it took promising Ma and Pa that she'd come over for dinner every month to get them to start forgiving her for worrying them so much. 

They never really spoke about their personal lives intersecting in public at all, so it didn't cross Clark's mind to think much about the mysterious billionaire buying up the Daily Planet almost a year later, saving it from bankruptcy and falling into the hands of Lex Luthor, who'd become quite the nuisance since the two Smallville born and raised boys left for the same city. 

“Are you nervous to see who's our new boss, Clark?” Jimmy asked, the anxious atmosphere of the office floor thick enough to cut. Everyone kept glancing at the elevator. There was some money placed on the outcome because they were all grown, working adults and we're very responsible and did only good things. 

“I'm excited if that's what you mean,” Clark said. “I'm fine with pretty much whoever as long as it's not Luthor.” He shivered. “We call know what kind of businessman he is.” Lex Corps. had already given out a statement that they were no longer interested in buying the Daily Planet just last week. 

Jimmy laughed. “I heard they're old money.” 

“What’s old money going to do with a newspaper?” 

The photographer shrugged. “They're the billionaire, not me. Man, ten o'clock can't get here fast enough.”

Clark looked at his watch, two minute away from the new hour, and everyone knew, pausing as they all stared towards the elevator. Everyone's hearts slowed in anticipation as the numbers lit up, going higher and higher with every second, and then it stopped, two light ding to announce the arrival of the Daily Planet's newest owner. 

When the doors slid open, all Clark let out was a flat, “Oh.”

Jimmy's mouth dropped open in offense. “_ Oh? _ ” he repeated with disbelief because he couldn't believe his eyes. “Our new boss is _ Bruce Wayne_, the Princess of Gotham, Vogue's Most Sexiest Woman of the Year despite only being March, and all you can say is _ oh _? Clark, what is wrong with you!” 

Clark shrugged, unimpressed because he'd seen her throw up when they were twelve after eating too much candy that one Halloween. Yes, Bruce was a very beautiful woman, but this was just a cover, wearing a short dress and tights with a bit of smokey eyeliner for a seductive look. 

“I guess I thought it was going to be Oliver Queen,” the reporter said without thinking. 

“_What?_”

Clark sucked in a breath, not thinking that she would've heard him, but the low, sharp tone of her voice said that she heard him loud and clear. Honestly, the conflict between Bruce and Oliver was a personality thing that wasn't much of a problem, except whenever Clark so much as hinted that the archer was a capable human being that Bruce would accuse Clark for picking Oliver's side. 

Jimmy took a step back as Clark attempted to duck behind his desk, but he knew she wouldn't let this go, hearing her footsteps coming towards him. 

“Oliver Queen,” Bruce said, looking at him with one carefully raised brow. “So you would've preferred him, huh?” 

Clark braved himself to look up. “No,” he answered slowly. “Of course not, Bruce, you're my favorite billionaire. Nobody else can compare, certainly not Oliver Queen.” 

Bruce huffed almost smugly. “I must have misheard then.” Without saying another thing, she put on a smile, heading to Perry's office to discuss the take over of the Daily Planet and the future agenda of the company. 

Clark waited a couple seconds before letting out the breath he was holding. Bruce was the worst when it came to being mad because she didn't show how she felt, she just sat and said only curt, single word answers. They'd gone through a few awkward visits together that way, and Clark had learned to dread it because he always wanted to talk to his best friend.

“Clark,” he heard Lois say, breaking him out of memory lane, “you know Bruce Wayne?” She asked this with hesitation, only knowing Bruce from what she heard and read, like almost everyone else in the world. 

The farm boy just realized that everyone on the floor was looking at him, and he ducked down at his desk again, not wanting to register their stares. “Yes,” he answered quietly, hoping that Lois didn't ask for more information, but as a reporter, she was inherently curious.

“How?” 

“We met when we were kids, we pretty much grew up together.” Even though they lived apart, but he didn't say that. “She's my best friend.”

Lois’ eyes widened. “That's why you went to Gotham all of the sudden,” she said, using her memory to its fullest. “She's a lot different than I expected.”

Clark smiled. “Yeah, she is.” 

The Pulitzer prize winner journalist nodded, asking no more questions, and Clark went back to working, ignoring anyone coming to his way. He refused to answer any of their questions, even Jimmy. He trusted only Lois enough to understand, and she did. 

It was after lunch that the door to Perry's office opened, the Editor-in-chief stepping out first to say goodbye to Bruce, and she headed to the elevator by herself, walking gracefully with her head held up. She stopped at Clark's desk just long enough to say, “Text it to me.”

By the time the elevator closed with a ding, Clark obliged. 

**Bye, Bruce, love you. **

**Mhmm.**

When Clark finally got the courage to ask Lois out for a date, Bruce adopted Dick around the same time. She called him before he even had the chance to hear about it in the papers ready to be printed in the morning. 

_ “His name is Richard John Grayson,” _ she told him, _ “he's a good kid. He didn't have anyone else.” _

“Can I come and meet him?” Clark asked first. 

_ “Not yet. I want him to settle in first.” _

“What are you going to do about . . .”

_ “Nothing. I plan to keep it from him.” _

“If that's what you want. Let me know if you need any help. I'd love to meet him. You have to tell me everything.” 

They spent the next half an hour on the phone that night, Bruce giving Clark a rundown of the last week. She spoke about Dick very gently, a smile in her voice, and Clark was happy for her. 

It wasn't until almost a month later that Bruce finally let them met, calling him all the way from Gotham, “Superman, I need your help.” 

In a blur, Clark changed into his costume and flew over without a second thought. He followed Bruce's heartbeat and landed on one of the city's many rooftops, Batman standing by the edge with her cape shrouding her figure as intended. 

“Hey, B,” he said, finally getting to talk to her without being over the phone. He paused when he heard another heart beat, fainter and faster, excited. “What’s going on?” 

Batman pulled one side of her cape away, revealing a little birdy huddled underneath dressed in bright colors contrasting to the vigilante's gray monochrome. 

“Oh my God,” the boy in tights said, gasping, “you're Superman!” He ran out from Batman's cape, jumping towards Superman with an agility rare to someone so young. “You're my favorite superhero!” 

Superman caught the boy easily, though he was speechless, not sure what to take from this. “Is this . . .” he asked, not finishing the sentence as he looked at his best friend. 

Batman nodded. “Robin,” she said, “we're ending patrol early tonight. We'll meet you there, Superman.” 

“We'll see you in a bit, Superman!” the boy, Robin, said, pulling away and landing on his feet. He followed Batman as she began to swing from her grappling hook, and Superman immediately flew to the waterfall entrance of the Cave. 

He was greeted by Alfred, who was expecting him. “Welcome back, Mister Clark,” the British said. “The master and young master will be back in five minutes. Go change and head to the dining room. I plan on a late night snack for all of you.”

Clark thanked his friend and did as he was told. Ten minutes later, Bruce walks into the room, a young blue-eyed raven bouncing alongside her. 

“Clark, this is my ward, Richard,” she introduced. “Richard, this is Clark.”

“You can call me Dick!” the boy said excited. “It's nice to meet you, Clark! Boy, I can't believe I know Superman!”

“It's nice to meet you, Dick,” Clark said, smiling despite how unsure he felt at the moment. “Bruce told me so much about you. You can call me Clark.”

Dick smiled with a light blush. “Bruce told me a lot about you too, Clark. She said you're best friends. Wow, Batman and Superman, best friends in and out of the mask. It's so romantic!”

Clark laughed. “Wouldn't have it any other way.”

Late night snack was served to the sound of Dick laughing. 

Later, in the Cave, Clark and Bruce had an argument, the former worried about a child being put in danger and the latter defending their choice. Their meeting ended with no resolution in sight, a fracture in their relationship when Clark screamed out, “What is wrong with you! Don't put your own trauma onto him, he's only ten!” 

A look of hurt crossed Bruce's face before she seethed, “_Get out._”

And he did. Clark left Gotham and flew all the way out of Earth's atmosphere and into the asteroid belt so he break something with his bare hands. 

For the longest time, outside of those five years, they didn't talk to each other, even when Clark wanted to. Continuing on, the reporter went on, slowly falling even more and more in love with Lois, who was such a great gal. It wasn't long before Perry started assigning the two together, using Clark to make sure their best writer didn't get into any trouble. (Even as the world's strongest man, he couldn't kept up with her occasionally. He was awed at that every time.) 

He didn't ever forget about it though, about what he said, but Clark didn't dismissed how he felt about the whole thing, about Dick being a sidekick despite being a child. He really wanted to apologize because he missed her, but Bruce had to acknowledge how he saw it. 

Dick was a child who just lost his parents, and Gotham was so dangerous to let him run around in the dark. What if the boy got hurt? Or killed? How can Bruce live past that if that ever happened? How could Clark ever comfort her? How could he live with himself if he just accepted it? 

It was almost five months since they last spoke to each other when Clark returned home from the Planet to find tiny Dick sitting in his apartment watching cartoons.

“Hiya, Clark!” the boy greeted happily, snacking on some candy that Clark never bought. 

“Dick,” the man said, closing the door behind him. “What are you doing here? Where's Bruce?” 

“Gotham. I wanted to see you, of course.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, taking a seat next to Dick on the couch. “What for? Did you get into a fight with Bruce?”

Dick shook his head. “No, you did.”

The man cringed at the reminder. “We're working it out.”

That wasn't really assuring to either of them, especially Dick whose demeanor became crestfallen as he looked at his feet. “You're not,” he said plainly. “She doesn't talk about you anymore.” 

That really hurt, worse than Kryptonite. “Is that so?” he asked, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “She must be really mad.”

Dick looked back him, eyes teary as he spoke, voice cracking. “I know you fought about me!” he admitted, looking guilty. “I'm sorry, Clark, but please don't be mad at Bruce! She tried to hide Batman from me, but I really want to be Robin! I want to help people, just like Bruce helped me! I didn't mean to make you hate her!” 

The little boy began to sob as he poured his heart out, and Clark ached for him, reaching over to hug Dick. “It's not your fault, Dick,” he assured, “and I swear I don't hate Bruce. I could never, she's my best friend.”

“Forever?” 

“Yes, forever. I love her just as much as you love her. I know you do because you came all the way here to apologize when you did nothing wrong. It's about time I say sorry too, I said something very hurtful that night. I miss her a lot.” 

Dick sniffled, smiling again. “She misses you too, Clark. I know she does.” 

They sat on the couch watching cartoons a little longer before Clark took Dick back to Gotham by flight, knocking on the door for the Manor and waiting. 

It was Bruce, looking stern and disappointed at her ward who didn't dare to look her in the eye. 

“I'm sorry,” Dick said without prompt. 

“Tell that to Alfred, not me,” she said firmly. “You're forbidden from patrol for a month.”

Dick wanted to argue, but Clark placed a hand on his shoulder. The ten year old nodded in defeat. 

“Come in,” Clark suggested, gesturing his friend inside. “We need to talk.”

“Okay,” the boy said, siding by taking a seat on the couch. 

“We should be going,” Bruce said, not taking a step in. “It’s late.”

“No, you have to talk! Don’t be so stubborn, Bruce!”

The woman blinked in mild shock of the talking back, to which Clark chuckled at. “Come on,” he gently urged. “Please, Bruce.”

Bruce frowned, but she nodded, following Clark into the bedroom where they’d have more privacy. “I’m not changing my mind,” she said first, as firm as before. 

Clark sighed. “Okay,” he said, much to Bruce’s surprise. “Okay, Bruce, I won’t change your mind about Dick.”

She had an expression like a caged animal at his response, expecting another argument. “Thank you,” she replied, not because she felt like she had to but because she wanted to. She looked at her feet in uncertainty. “You’re right,” she then admitted, giving back. “He’s too young, and Gotham is too dangerous. I should’ve never let him become Robin.” 

“But it’s a little too late, huh?” the reporter finished. “Because you need him as much as he needs you.” 

He knew that, he knew that since the very night he first met Dick. This was her way of letting someone new come into her life, her life after the death of her parents and her life after Batman. She had become Batman as he became her, just like Clark had become Superman and Superman him. If Clark hadn’t, he wasn’t sure just how he’d still fit into her life. 

This was the moment that he decides whether or not he stayed or not. 


	2. Chapter 2

**EXTRA**

Clark stepped out of the break room when he zoned onto a familiar voice, a voice that should've been back in Gotham, _ not _ in the Daily Planet, and shifting into gear, the reporter rushed over as humanly possible to make sure Ma didn't have a reason to wash both their mouths with soap for the next month. 

“Whatever I call her is none of your business, you sexist f—”

“Finish that sentence, young man, and you're grounded.”

Dick frowned underneath the hand covering his mouth, and the young boy turned around, crossing his arms. “But Clark!” he argued, looking and sounding like the ten year old he was. “He said—”

“I don't care what he said, you keep your manners. If Alfred heard you, what do you think he'd say?” Clark asked. 

The boy got quietly upset, biting his bottom lip in frustration. Clark huffed with a bit of amusement, pinching that bottom lip so that Dick didn't make himself bleed, and he knelt down. 

“That's a good kid,” he praised, ruffling the boy's hair, which made Dick laugh. “What are you doing in Metropolis? Shouldn't you be in school right now?” 

Dick uncrossed his arms. “I didn't feel like it's an okay day,” he explained, sounding relieved, “and Bruce said I could stay home. She said she's going to Metropolis 'cause she has business and would be stopping by your workplace so I came with. We can have dinner. Bruce said you'd know the best diners in the city!”

Clark raised an eyebrow at that. “Business in Metropolis?” he repeated. “I would've never guess. How about we go hang out at my desk while we wait? That way you tell me anything you want and I can watch you watch your mouth. Sounds good?” 

“Sure!” 

Clark led Dick to his desk, his attention was too caught up with the cutest kid on the block. The man sat down in his chair, looking over his draft. “I'm going to do a bit of work, but I'm listening,” he said. Multitasking was a great skill of his. “Don't climb on anything taller than you, and stay away from Cullener.”

Dick immediately climbed onto the back of Clark's chair—which was taller than him by a few inches but that was fine—sitting dangerously on the back and leaning most of his weight on Clark's head and shoulders. Clark didn't think it was comfortable for the kid, but Dick was a skilled and experienced acrobat, he knew what his limits were (hopefully). It was like a sit down version of propping a kid on your shoulder, Clark didn't mind. It was enough to get the kid talking a mile a minute, making vague hand gestures that Clark saw in the reflection of his computer screen and shifting as he spoke because he moved a lot. 

They had a discussion about dinosaurs because that was where it was at, though Dick mentioned several things about birds and the evolutionary process. The kid started reading up on insects too, which was pretty cool because Clark knew a lot about insects. They were moving onto the topics of listing off their favorite ice cream from least to most because Dick suddenly wanted ice cream but he couldn't go anywhere yet.

“Dick.”

The boy stopped at the call of his name, an extra bounce to his movement as he turned his body around. Clark grabbed him by the knees because Dick forgot he was currently not in a good position to do that with his entire body and that there was nothing but air between him and the floor. 

“Dick, don't move without thinking,” Clark chided, pulling the boy down to his lap before putting him down on his feet. “You could've hurt yourself.” 

“I would've caught myself,” Dick replied. 

“Knowing that doesn't keep me from getting worried. Go, she's looking for you.”

“But I want to stay a little longer.”

Clark chuckled, patting the kid on the head again. “Dinner will be take-out from Besty's—best cherry pie in all of downtown—and we'll stay in to watch a movie.”

Dick's eyes lit up. “Can we watch _ The Princess Bride_?” 

“Sure thing, kid.”

“Oh! And since it's a Friday, can we make it a sleepover? Please, Clark? _ Please_?” 

“Gotta ask Bruce about this one.”

“Ask me about what?” Speak of the devil, and there she was, Bruce dressed in a semi-formal dress (because God forbids Bruce Wayne wore something smart) and matching flats. Her hair was brushed over one shoulder, her lipstick a shiny shade she disliked. 

“Bruce!” Dick called, tugging at her hand. “Can we have a sleepover at Clark's? It's Friday, and I promise I'll go to school on Monday. He said we'll have dinner and watch a movie. Can we, Bruce? Please?” The boy put on his best hopeful puppy face, taking full advantage of being the cutest kid on the block. 

If he had put all that effort on Clark, the reporter would've folded, but this was Bruce Wayne. It could either way.

“That's fine, Dick,” Bruce replied, “no need to push yourself. I'll tell Alfred to leave us our overnight things then. We can stay the whole weekend if you want.” 

Dick laughed, cheering as he bounced on his feet as he wrapped his arms around his warden's waist. “Really? Yay!” 

Bruce placed her hand on her ward's head and let her fingers linger between his hair. “Off by four, right?” she asked Clark. 

“You know it,” Clark said casually. “Pick me up?” 

“Mhmm. Alfred will take us to get food and to your apartment.” 

“Sure. You two take the bed, I'm taking the couch.”

“It’s your apartment.”

“Bed's big enough for two.”

“Fine. I'm paying for dinner.”

“Nope. Regulars get to keep a tab.”

“We're guests, Clark.”

“And we do this every time, let me take care of everything.”

Bruce paused. She huffed, nodding. “Fine. Let's go, Dick,” she said. “We still have things to finish up before four.”

Clark smiled, getting up. “I'll walk you to the elevator “

“It's only a few yards away, Clark.”

“Yeah, but I don't see you often, spare a few more seconds.” 

“You come over every week.”

“Honestly, could be more.”

“You're a distraction. Dick needs to focus.”

“Hey!” Dick argued, scandalous. “Don't drag me into this!” 

“Excuses,” Clark agreed. “She's only saying that because if I show up more often, she'd be forced to get up before noon. She might even eat all three meals.” 

“Wow, all three meals.”

Bruce frowned. “You're making fun of me,” she said, getting onto the elevator. 

“It's done out of love,” Dick replied, nodding as if it was a well-known knowledge. 

“See? A distraction.” Bruce glanced over at Clark because Dick learned that from him. 

Clark leaned on the threshold of the elevator, laughing. “Yeah, yeah,” he said. “I have the weekend off, let's make plans tonight.” 

“Let’s go to the zoo,” Dick said, excited, “and the aquarium!”

“Whatever you want, chum,” Bruce said. 

“Definitely. See you later, Dick, be good. Bye, Bruce, love you,” Clark said, stepping back. 

Bruce hummed. “Bye, Clark,” she replied. “Have fun.”

“See ya, Clark!” Dick nearly shouted. He paused for a second, looking out into the floor. “Hey, Cullener! _ Fuck you!_” 

The elevator closed, Clark's mouth opened. He barely caught the look of surprise on Bruce's face. 

“Cullener, what in the world did you say to him?” Clark asked in disbelief. The entire floor looked over the said man, who felt scrutinized. 

“I— I just asked why doesn't he call Wayne Mom,” Cullener replied nervously. “She adopted him, didn't she? Besides, her name is weird for a woman. ‘Mom’ fits her better.” 

Clark rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Bruce is Bruce. Don't bother the kid again.” 

The other man frowned but nodded. 

With that settled, Clark went back to his desk, going back to work with a smile back on his face. A weekend with his best friend and his favorite kid? He looked forward to that. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work(s), please check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/kappachyun?s=09).


End file.
